Chapter 8

Whenever a full department meeting of Aurors was called, it was never a good thing. One might think that sometimes they would call a meeting to announce a bonus, a surprise day off or even a celebratory potluck, but if one thought that, one would find oneself regularly disappointed and even offended by the sheer volume of bad news delivered during a full department meeting.

It was this very thought that was reflected in Draco's sneer as he marched himself down the corridor to the open expanse of the main Auror Office where most of the Aurors were already gathered together for whatever bomb the Ministry was about to drop on them. Perhaps there was a serial killer on the loose who, by the way, was also invisible, had the ability to travel through time and whose capture would be rewarded with free potions to restore the limbs you lost in the process of apprehending him. Or perhaps, due to budget cuts, they were going to be limited to one set of shielded armor per Auror partnership, and each partner would have to decide which half they would wear. Perhaps they were reviving the old uniforms, which included robes with extremely high, starched lace collars.

As Draco picked a column towards the back which he could indolently lean against, his training had him automatically observing and cataloguing his surroundings. He quickly spotted the red head of slovenly-arranged hair belonging to one Ronald Weasley, and felt his gaze turn cold. Of course, the thin mark that had crossed his cheek from Draco's hex was long gone, but Draco rather thought it would be many moons before the anger with which the hex had been cast could be considered spent.

It did not escape his notice that Weasley was not wearing his Auror uniform. Though they were not always required to don battle armor, they wore their uniforms on duty, without fail, special assignments notwithstanding. There were many dedicated Aurors who wore their uniforms at all times, knowing they could easily be called out to the field on a moment's notice. Even when not in uniform, most Aurors tended to wear inconspicuous clothing, simple styles and dark colors and, occasionally, their Hogwarts House colors.

Of course, Draco always wore black. His lips twitched at the memory of the conversation with Hermione by scroll where he revealed that black was not his favorite color. He knew she was teasing, but he enjoyed surprising her.

It was a common misconception that he wore black because he liked it. (Or, according to some theories, because his soul was equally as black.) In truth, it was a lesson he learned from his father; black was intimidating. It was powerful. (Not to mention always slimming and flattering on every body type.) Black could imply secrets and luxury, and as a trademark, it could strike fear in the hearts of the opposition. For a Malfoy, opposition could be anyone who did not have the same goals that you did, which meant everyone, at one time or another. Color was a tool, just like Hermione had learned with her breathtaking green dress.

The clothing choices you make, outside of just the color, are also a tool, to gain the influence or the response from others that you are looking for. And today, Ron Weasley's choice of garment proved that he was, in fact, a tool; Ron was wearing a Chudley Cannons jersey, the orange of the team colors contrasting with his hair and the very freckles on his face, which made him look offensively ochreous. Draco's sneer became even more derisive, if such a thing were possible.

The famous self-satisfied grin plastered on his face ensured that whatever news could be making him so happy would surely be disagreeable to Draco. Ron had not yet returned to duty from his sabbatical after his close call with death (a call that could not have been closer than Draco's himself, and yet he clearly needed no sabbatical, probably because he wasn't born a prat of a Weasley, something he couldn't very well hold against Ron, and yet he did, anyway). Draco also suspected that Potter had encouraged the Weasel to stay out of the limelight after the very public dissolution of his engagement to Hermione Granger. And it was possible that he had not been cleared as mentally fit for duty. Frankly, Draco suspected that Weasley never qualified on that count to begin with, and was only passed through because he and Potter were a proven effective duo.

Speaking of Potter, he clearly had his 'official' look on his face, so he would definitely be making an announcement. But as his mien seemed lighter than it had since the debacle at the Ministry Ball, Draco was intrigued by the possibility that there might be a silver lining to this cloud.

"Thank you all for coming," Potter began, as if they weren't all summoned and mandated to be there. "Over the years we have lost many good Aurors, frequently under very sad circumstances. So it pleases me greatly to announce the retirement of my good friend and partner, Ron Weasley, under some of the best circumstances."

Unsure if Ron wanted to make the announcement himself, Potter looked at him for a cue. The Weasel, his Weasel-grin stretching from ear to ridiculous ear, jumped to his feet, pointing at his jersey, and yelled out triumphantly, "I'm going to play for the Cannons, mates! As their new Keeper!"

There was half-hearted cheering and sprinkled applause, followed by considerable laughter. It was no secret that the Cannons were one of the worst teams in the League. It was also no secret that Ron Weasley was fiercely loyal to them. Playing for the Cannons would be a dream come true for the Weasel. Draco would almost begrudge him his happiness, except that would mean conceding there was anything worthwhile in being a Cannon, and that was an admission Draco was not willing to make.

It did look like a bit of good news, though. At least he wouldn't have to see his Weasel-face every day, and he wouldn't have to risk his life again to save his Weasel-neck.

Even more importantly, the thought niggled in the back of his brain, Hermione wouldn't have to see him every day, either. She was well rid of Weasley, of course, but he felt better knowing there was very little chance she'd run into his freckly face when she was least expecting it, and he wouldn't be able to hamstring her life any more than he already had.

In fact, the thought that Hermione would have a virtually Ron-free life made him very nearly smile before he remembered himself.

Potter was expressing the department's regrets at losing such a dedicated (exaggeration) and experienced (exaggeration) and exceptional (immense exaggeration) Auror, and that he himself would be sad to lose his best friend as his partner.

As those words came out of his mouth, Draco noticed that Potter glanced over at him, clearly aware of his feelings as he lounged in the back of the crowd. Potter was trying not to acknowledge the fact that Weasley's presence would not be universally missed. Not everyone realized there was a rift between Weasley and Potter as a result of Ron's breakup with Hermione, but Draco clearly saw that their relationship was strained, if not directly damaged. Not having to work with Ron was probably a blessing in disguise.

"But," Potter was saying, "until I can decide on a permanent partner, I will be temporarily partnered up with the only other Auror who does not currently have one." Oh, great. "Draco Malfoy."

As heads turned towards him, Draco was aware of the fact that there was resentment on many faces, since public sentiment still held that Draco Malfoy was not to be trusted – not as an Auror, and especially not as the partner responsible for the health and safety of the great Harry Potter. This was going to be sacrilege in the minds of many.

Potter was placing him in the spotlight. It was an indication of trust, and while one part of Draco was pleased at the recognition of his abilities and skills, another part was irritated at Potter's incessant need to meddle. A Malfoy did not require others' acceptance, and Draco had no need for the respect of the other Aurors. There were some who would no doubt expect him to express his appreciation for the honor of working alongside their hero, and he would disappoint them with his arrogance. It couldn't be helped.

As the other Aurors surrounded Ron to cheer (and probably to gossip), Draco considered himself dismissed and turned to walk back to his office. Cursed Potter was probably going to want to review all of the scrolls on his recently closed cases, and certainly all the open ones. He had only taken a few steps down the corridor when he felt someone following him. Hoping it wasn't already time for a confrontation with a close-minded Auror who wanted to reemphasize how he was a stain on the noble profession, he turned around to face the person following him.

He sighed inwardly as he faced Potter's good-natured grin. Harry clapped a hand on his shoulder and greeted him with a forced, "Hello, partner." The expressionless face Draco gave him in return made Harry laugh out loud.

In truth, Harry was a long way from being the worst partner. Not only was Potter the (second) best Auror, he had a good head on his shoulders, good instincts, and as much as it pained him to admit it, good sense, too. He was reliable in a fight. Not much for strategy, but since Draco excelled at strategy, there was a good chance they would actually do well together. If they didn't hex each other into oblivion first, that is.

Over the years, Draco had gained a grudging respect for the wizarding world's greatest hero. Not in the least because Potter was one of the only few in the department not to give him hassle for joining the Aurors. He actually seemed to appreciate having Draco's wand and his wits in the pursuit of the Dark wizards and witches.

So when Harry laughed at Draco's face, he responded with the expected sneer. "Partner. Didn't it occur to you to consult me first before announcing it to everyone?"

As they continued walking down the hallway, Harry said, "Of course not. You would have just said no." At Draco's glare, Harry laughed again. "Feel like blowing off this afternoon? I could use some ice cream."

Draco scoffed. "Aren't you supposed to be the boss of this place?"

"Yup. And I'm getting ice cream. As my partner, you can tag along, or you can always go back to your paperwork."

"Our paperwork," Draco corrected him. "Partner."

"Righto," Harry grinned. And Draco had the distinct feeling that somehow he would still end up doing all the paperwork. It occurred to him that even in school Harry barely ever did his homework. Hmm. Maybe he would relent on the whole getting a secretary thing, if it was brought up again. Perhaps they could call her (or him?) an Assistant Auror.

"Anyway, I'm meeting Hermione at Forever Fortescue's in 10 minutes," Harry continued, consulting the Muggle watch he insisted on wearing. "You coming along or not?"

Draco was stuck. He'd been about to tell Potter that he would very well rather beat his head on scroll after scroll of field analysis than play nice sitting a table at the ice cream parlour with him, pretending they were good friends. But Hermione was going to be there. He hadn't seen her in a few days, and since that scroll conversation had passed, he'd had no reason to initiate more contact. If he went with Potter, his new partner, he could casually reconnect with her without looking too eager.

There was a glimmer of amusement in Potter's emerald eyes as he waited for Draco's answer. It made him suspect Potter knew exactly what was running through his mind. Somehow that made the decision easier. He might as well go – Potter was clearly expecting him to, and if he declined now, it might look like he was trying to avoid Hermione. Plus, and more importantly, he really wanted to.

"Fine, I'll meet you there," Draco conceded. "I need to close up a couple files in my office, and I'll be there in a few minutes." The files were a lie since he'd be a pretty sloppy Auror if he just left files around vulnerable to being accessed by just anybody, but it was the best Draco could think of at the moment. He had no intention of arriving at the ice cream parlour tagging along behind the great Harry Potter. And maybe this way he wouldn't look as pathetic as he felt going to eat ice cream just to spend a little time with Hermione Granger.